


Paper butterflies

by ShouJingshen



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:41:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26182831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShouJingshen/pseuds/ShouJingshen
Summary: She thought that she had loved him, that they were meant to be together. She thought wrong.
Kudos: 9





	Paper butterflies

Ever since she was young, Catherine had been told about the man she was to marry. Arthur. She supposed that’s how it started. She was told she would love him. So she did. She felt the butterflies in her stomach at his name, rising and falling in a rhythmic dance. 

Catherine did not meet her love until they were 16. They had talked, of course, over letters. But meeting in person was different. The previously steady thrum of butterflies’ wings became almost frantic as uncertainty took over. She managed to escape into the shadows of the boat, relaxing to the sound of the waves. She met him a few hours later. He was perfect. The butterflies resumed their dance.

Arthur was a good man. He didn’t deserve this. No-one deserved this. The butterflies in her stomach were weighed down by dread. She held his pale hand, begging and praying for him to just stay with her a little longer. But there was no bargaining with death. It took him in its cold grip, crushing some of her butterflies as it did so. She wouldn’t fall so easily again.

It was a cold, hard winter. The butterflies were silent as she sold possession upon possession just to keep her and her maids alive. She didn’t care for the frantic decisions that were made just to marry her into the Tudor family.

Her mother was dead. Gone. Her father couldn’t pay the dowry. He couldn’t bring her back to Spain. She had lost her worth. Her smiles were much more strained and she had stopped eating as much. Henry still wanted to marry her though, despite everything. It felt strange to be wanted again. She felt the butterflies flap their wings lazily. She ignored them. At least she was needed.

Their marriage was fine at first. Catherine’s defences had come down. She truly believed he loved her. She believed that she loved him. She was wrong. Henry started coming to his chambers later. This would be fine if he didn’t stink of wine and perfume. It would be fine if he didn’t constantly have flings with other women. It would be fine if he didn’t have children with their maids. It would be fine if he didn’t neglect his daughter to do so.

And yet she stayed strong, resolute. For the whole of their 24 years of marriage.

She didn’t have many butterflies anymore. They had all been crushed by either her own or Henry’s hand. He gave her up for Boleyn. She couldn’t blame him, honestly. She didn’t want to love him anymore. Yet she was so sure she did. She had been sure.

She knew better now. As she looked around at her new family, she realised. The butterflies had been paper. To be made and crushed as other saw fit. But now it was different. She could trust these butterflies.


End file.
